Some Enchanted Evening
by hilandmum
Summary: House is fascinated by a woman he's only seen from a distance. How will he find her, and what will he do when he does?
1. Chapter 1

Title: Some Enchanted Evening

Chapter 1.

House had finally escaped the hospital and not a moment too soon. He could hear the click of Cuddy's heels coming towards him as he swiftly made his exit, or as swiftly as a man with a cane can. He just wanted to go home, stretch out on his couch with a glass of something amber and his remote. But as he drove home, another idea occurred to him. There was a new watering hole to investigate, a little out of his way, but not far. Finnegans or Fergusons or something like that. And the best thing about it was that he wasn't apt to run into Wilson or any of his team.

The place, Flannagans, that was it, even had a parking lot so he didn't have to bother with finding a spot on the busy street. He entered, immediately deciding it had been a good idea to stop. Oh, it was too new to have the smell of an established bar, but it had potential. Lots of wood, small round tables with stools scattered strategically throughout, and a long burnished oak bar running the length of the place with three bartenders working the bar and several scantily clad waitresses tending to the tables. A jukebox, a real old-fashioned jukebox, toward the back was playing some sweet jazz. Thelonius Monk's 'Round Midnight', if he wasn't mistaken.

House limped up to the bar and took an empty stool. Nice stools, too, with backs that hugged their occupants.

"What'll it be?" the nearest bartender asked.

House looked at the offerings behind the man, then smiled. "Glenfiddich, and bring the bottle."

The man nodded. He was middle-aged with receding but still gingery red hair and a mustache to match. He was back immediately with the bottle of Scotch and a glass. House placed three twenties on the bar as the bartender poured.

As he sipped his drink, House continued to scan the room. A few couples, and some white collar guys that looked like 'lets stop off for a quick one on the way home' groups. As his eyes came back to the jukebox, he noticed a woman standing next to it, reading the titles, probably looking for a special song. She wasn't very tall and definitely slim but with enough curves to be interesting. Golden blond hair, pulled back with a clip. He usually went for brunettes, but something about her was appealing. He could only see her profile, one clear gray eye, a short straight nose, and a determined chin.

He called the barkeep over with a wave of his hand. "Do you know that woman?" he asked.

"Which woman would that be?" Ginger-hair asked, a hint of a brogue, real or fake, in his voice.

House swiveled his stool back around to indicate the jukebox, but she was gone. "She was just there" he said. There was no longer any sign of her in the room.

House's next week was like any other, avoiding Cuddy and the clinic, toying with his team, even solving a case. The ordinariness punctuated as always by lunch with Wilson, Monday night football on his widescreen TV, and a poker game on Thursday.

On Friday morning, Wilson stuck his head through House's office door, a broad smile on his boyish face. "I scored!" he announced.

"The little raven-haired beauty in Cardiology?" House guessed.

"Better than that! Two, count 'em, two tickets to the Giants game this weekend!" Wilson obviously expected House to be as delighted as he was. "You're in, aren't you?" he asked when his friend didn't respond.

"Sure, why not," House said unenthusiastically.

"What, you had something better to do?" Wilson asked.

"Maybe," was House's cryptic response. He was hoping to go back to the bar again, maybe hook up with the woman he'd seen.

"So, do I look for someone else…" Wilson began.

"No, I'll take the ticket off your hands. Sunday at one, right?" House asked.

Wilson wondered if he was being played, but he was used to it. "I'll pick you up at 11:15 Sunday morning."

Sunday at exactly 11:15 Wilson knocked on House's door. House opened it, already

wearing his jacket and cap.

"What kept you?" he asked, limping past his friend and out to the car. Wilson stood there blustering "But, but…" then slapped his hands to his sides, shook his head and followed House.

The drive to the Meadowlands took an hour, even with traffic. They arrived more than a half hour before the game started. They stopped as they walked past a concession stand to load up on hot dogs, popcorn, and of course, beer. House and Wilson found their seats, good ones at that.

"Now this is living!" Wilson pronounced, staring straight ahead at the fifty yard line. House just chewed on his dog, stopping now and then for a swig of beer.

By the end of the first quarter, House had downed his share of the food and drink. "Gotta pee," he told his friend, as he grabbed his cane and made his way out. When he reached the corridor that circled the building under the stands he looked for signs to the restrooms. That's when he caught sight of her, walking away from him. He KNEW it was the same woman even from the back. On impulse, he followed, but there were so many people milling around, heading for the restrooms, food stands, or back to their seats, that he lost sight of her.

He stood for a moment trying to decide what to do, but in the end his bladder ruled the day. He found the nearest men's room. As he stood at the urinal, he tried to think of a plan to find the woman, but nothing came to mind.

He found his seat again. Wilson was intent on the game. "What'd I miss?" he asked and Wilson happily rambled on about some great move one of the tailbacks made and the throwing arm of the Giants' quarterback. House half listened as his eyes scanned the stands, looking in vain for his mystery woman.

There are places in Princeton that many people never see. But the cops know them all too well. Sergeant Mitch Levy, a 20-year veteran of the Princeton PD, and his new partner, Maria Perez, were patrolling one of those mean streets when Mitch caught sight of something suspicious. It could have been a homeless person seeking shelter in an alley, but the clothes he could see in the dim streetlights were better than those on any street person he'd ever seen. He switched on his flashlight and started into the alley saying "Whaddya make of this?" and prompting Maria to follow him.

A woman was slumped against a wall, unconscious. Maria slipped on a pair of gloves and began to examine her blond head for wounds.

"There's a bump and some dried blood at the base of her skull," she reported. "Pulse is steady, though."

"Any ID on her?" Mitch asked.

"Nada" Maria checked every pocket of the woman's designer suit. "Better call an ambulance to take her to the hospital, and get a crime scene unit in here."

Forty minutes later, an ambulance unloaded the woman at the entrance to the Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital ER. The two sergeants who found her followed the gurney inside.

"What happened?" the young woman doctor asked them, as she grabbed an intake form..

"We found her in an alley downtown," Mitch told her.

"She was unconscious, and we saw that she was hurt," Maria added. "There was no ID, no wallet, no cell phone, not even a purse. It looked like she'd been hit over the head and

robbed."

"A Jane Doe." The blond doctor began to fill out the initial paperwork. She was anxious to get to the patient so she cut it short. "If you'll leave me your card, we'll let you know what we find, and alert you when she comes to," she told the police.

"How long do you think she'll be out?" Mitch asked.

Cameron began to examine the head wound. "Hard to say. An hour or two, maybe even longer. This is a pretty bad bump."

They left and she set to work. Most of what she found was consistent with the wound. She cleaned it and dressed it, of course, and checked for any other visible contusions, cuts or abrasions but found none. She'd been working quietly on the woman for at least forty-five minutes when she noticed her stirring.

The woman's eyes began to flicker, then opened, she tried to sit up, but the inevitable dizziness made her lie back down again. "Where am I? What happened?" The words tumbled from her mouth. At least they were coherent.

"You're at Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital in the ER," Cameron told her. "Two police sergeants found you unconscious in an alley and had you brought here."

"An alley?" The woman didn't seem to understand. "I don't remember an alley."

"That's understandable. You took quite a blow to your head. Can you tell me the last thing you remember?" Cameron asked gently.

The woman appeared to try but then said "My head is fuzzy."

"That's not a surprise, comes with head injuries. Just lie still for now." Cameron decided to try some easier questions. "What's your name? We couldn't find any ID."

"My name?" The woman was even having a problem with that. She began to panic. "Why can't I remember my name?"


	2. Chapter 2

_I'd hoped to get this chapter up yesterday, but we were out of town for the weekend and just got home._

Chapter 2.

"Take it easy," Cameron said soothingly. "Injuries like yours are often accompanied by temporary amnesia." She didn't tell her patient that it usually centered around the events just prior to the incident. No need to worry her unnecessarily. On an impulse, she decided to call Foreman for a consult. The Neurologist responded almost immediately.

"Things slow in Diagnostics today?" she asked him when he showed up.

"Yeah, so what do you have?"

"Our Jane Doe here was found unconscious, probably due to a blow to the head," Cameron said, showing Foreman the wound. "She can't remember what happened. She can't even remember her name."

"I'd like to do an MRI to see what internal injuries resulted from the blow," Foreman offered.

"Dr. Foreman is a Neurologist," Cameron explained to the patient. "He'll take you for some tests."

'Jane' started to nod her head, but stopped because of the pain it caused.

About a half hour later, House showed up in the ER looking for Foreman. "You called him for a consult?" he accused Cameron.

"I've got a Jane Doe, head injury and amnesia, but not just the normal retrograde amnesia. She can't remember her name," Cameron explained. "Foreman took her for an MRI. They should be right back."

As she said it, Foreman wheeled the patient back in. Neither Cameron nor Foreman noticed the astounded look on House's face. It was his mystery woman, and now that he was finally going to meet her, she was still a mystery. "What did you find?" he asked Foreman.

"Nothing besides the surface wound and the usual swelling in response to the trauma. Certainly nothing that explains the amnesia."

"I guess she just wants to forget her shabby, pathetic life," House suggested.

"Oh, I don't know," Cameron said. "Can't be too shabby if she was wearing these." Cameron showed them the woman's clothes.

"High end," House said, feeling the cloth of the skirt, and remembering that she'd been elegantly dressed when he'd seen her the first time.

"No ID. The labels are name brands, as you said, but nothing so exclusive that they can give us a lead," Cameron told him.

"Us?" Foreman asked.

"Doctors?" the woman dared to say to get their attention. "I'm lying right here, you know."

"How do you know?" House asked. "You don't know who you are, how can you be sure where you are?"

She glared at him. "You can't talk about me as if I'm not here."

"Watch us," House countered.

Foreman interrupted the petty argument. "She should be admitted overnight for observation after that blow to the head."

Cameron nodded in agreement, already looking ahead. "But then where do we send her tomorrow? We don't know who she is or where she lives."

"Hello! You're both doing it again!" the woman shouted.

Cameron and Foreman looked at each other sheepishly.

"I have amnesia. I'm not brain-dead!"

"Maybe the cops will find out who she is by tomorrow," Foreman said. "Then she can just go home."

"If not, I'll take her home with me," House told them. Three pairs of eyes stared at him in surprise.

"House, she's not a rat you can take home to observe and experiment on," Cameron warned.

House ignored her. "Whaddya say, Ms. Doe? Care to come home with me?" he wriggled his eyebrows.

'Jane' shook her head, but had to smile. Something about this man intrigued her.

"I'll help you find out who you are," he promised.

She was saved from having to answer immediately by the return of Sergeants Levy and Perez. Cameron looked expectantly at the older man and the Latina, but they shook their heads.

"The crime scene team couldn't find any clues to what happened," Mitch said. He looked at the now-awake victim. "Miss, what can you tell us?" he asked.

"Nothing, I'm afraid. I…I don't even remember my name," she said apologetically.

The officers looked at the doctors for confirmation. "Amnesia is common after injuries like this," Foreman said. "But she seems to have forgotten a lot more than the events immediately before the attack."

"Do you think it was a robbery?" Cameron asked. "A mugging?"

"It would seem so, wouldn't it?" Maria said. "They took anything of value she may have had."

"Trouble is, no one's reported her missing," Mitch added. "Maybe because they didn't want her found."

"It's less than twenty-four hours. Maybe her loved ones, her parents, husband, boyfriend, whatever, know the police won't start looking until someone's missing that long," Cameron suggested.

"Could be," Mitch said. "But my experience has been when someone doesn't arrive home on time, their relatives panic. They report it immediately."

"Well, let us know if someone does report her missing," Foreman said. "We're admitting her overnight for observation."

"We're going to have to take her clothes, have them checked out," Maria said. "We'll return them in the morning."

After the police left they got their Jane Doe settled in her room. "I'll see if I can rustle up some clothes for you, besides the things you were wearing," Cameron offered.

"Thanks," the woman said. "You've been very kind."

"Cameron has an advanced degree in Compassion," House said. Much to everyone's surprise, he'd stuck around as Cameron and Foreman took care of the patient.

"I guess your offer to take me home with you tomorrow didn't come from the kindness of your heart," the patient said, smirking up at the tall man.

"He doesn't have a heart," Cameron said. "Just ulterior motives that no one can guess."

When he arrived at the hospital the next morning, House stopped by to check on Jane Doe. "How's the headache?" he asked. He knew he needed to play nice if he wanted her to agree to go home with him.

"Not so bad" she said. "But did anyone ever die from eating this stuff?" she asked, indicating the half-eaten food on her tray.

House had to chuckle. "If you're a really good girl, I'll bring you a turkey sandwich from the cafeteria. It's not the Ritz, but it's better than this slop."

She frowned. "Make it a burger. With cheese. And a diet coke I think."

"Right. The diet coke will make up for the gazillion calories in the cheeseburger." But when she stuck her tongue out at him, he relented. "OK, cheeseburger and coke coming right up."

When he returned less than twenty minutes later, he was surprised to find Wilson chatting with her. "Did your antenna pick up that there was a gorgeous woman in this room?" he asked.

Wilson laughed. "I was just leaving. JD was telling me you'd be right back." He left them alone.

"Ta-da!" House said, placing the food in front of her. "Just what the patient ordered. I even got you some fries."

"They're fattening" she said, then took a big bite of her burger.

House rolled his eyes. "I thought you'd say that" he told her, helping himself to some of the fries. "So taste like what you remember?"

"Very funny!" she said.

"What was it Jimmy was calling you? JD?" he asked, staring at her as she ate, and occasionally filching a few fries.

"I don't feel like a Jane" she said. When she was done eating she let out a contented sigh and asked "Do you always like to watch people eating?"

"Nope. Just never saw anyone chew every bite fifty times" he said. He cleared away all of the debris, then started to leave to see what his team had accomplished with their patient, but turned back to say "I'll be back for you when I'm through for the day.

"Dr. Wilson said that if there was anyone who could help me find out who I am, you'd be the one. Are they really going to let me out of this place?" she asked.

"You don't have a concussion. Nothing seriously wrong" he said.

"Except I can't remember who I am" she responded.

"They can't keep you here for that" he pointed out.

She nodded and watched him go, probably as curious about him as he was about her.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3.**

At five, as promised, House reappeared. JD had changed out of the hospital gown into

her own clothes. The police had returned them that morning telling her they hadn't helped with their investigation.

"Dr. Cameron wanted me to go home with her, but I told her I'd give your place a try for a while. She said she'd take me shopping for some things tomorrow and gave me a pair of sweats to wear tonight," she told House.

"Who says I'll let you wear anything tonight" he said with an exaggerated leer. She frowned at him, so he amended that. "C'mon. I'm not really a dirty old man," he promised.

Her frown disappeared, but she still looked a little suspicious. He wheeled her to the entrance and then they walked to his car, and drove the few miles to his place.

House let her into his apartment. She looked around as she walked in, took in the furniture, the bookshelves, the instruments on the wall, the piano. They told her more about him than she knew about herself.

"Where do I sleep?" she asked.

"I've been told that the couch isn't bad."

"Well, I didn't expect you to give me your bed," she said.

"You got that straight. I only share it with professional women, if you know what I mean."

"How do you know I'm not one?" she quipped.

"For now, let's assume otherwise," he replied. He was impressed with her sense of humor about herself and her situation. "Do you want anything?"

"A drink would be nice," she answered.

"Kitchen's over there," he said, flopping down on the couch. "You can bring me one too, while you're at it."

But she didn't move. "Dr. House, why are you so interested in me?" She'd been wondering about that all day. It just didn't make sense to her.

He looked at her as she made herself comfortable on a chair. He sat up, and motioned for her to join him on the couch. She moved over to it and sat, but not too close to him.

He didn't know whether to tell her about seeing her before. He was hoping to take her back to the bar to see if she remembered it, or whether anyone would remember her. But what should he say? He decided it was worth taking a chance. "There's a sappy old Rogers and Hammerstein song. You're too young to have ever heard it. Hell, I'm too young. But it was one of my mother's favorites, probably still is.

_Some enchanted evening_

_You will see a stranger, you will see a stranger across a crowded room_

_And somehow you'll know. You'll know even then_

_That somewhere you'll see her again and again."_

"You're saying you've seen me before?" she asked. "Why didn't you say so? Then you know who I am!"

"Yes, and no" he replied. She looked puzzled so he was forced to explain. "I saw you at a bar. A really nice bar, Flannagans. But I didn't have a chance to talk to you and never found out who you are."

"So, that's why you're interested?" she asked. "Are you sure it was me?"

"Yes. I'm sure," he told her in a quiet voice. "Maybe tomorrow night we can go back there, see if it jogs your noggin." He shrugged. "Maybe one of the waitresses will remember you, or there'll be someone there who knows you and recognizes you."

"OK" she said. "That sounds like a good idea, actually. The best I've heard so far." She sat back, closed her eyes for a minute, and when she opened them she said, "So, what's for dinner?"

"I've given you a place to stay. You expect me to feed you too?" he snarled.

She just raised her eyebrows.

"Well, we can have Italian, Chinese, or maybe Thai," he told her.

"You cook?" She sounded surprised.

He rolled his eyes. "Home delivery is man's best friend."

She smiled. "Make it Chinese. Wait. I'm not sure if I even like that. Name some dishes."

He rattled off some of his favorites.

"General Tso's. I think I like that," she said, not completely certain.

He called in an order, and before long they had their food. As they ate, silence filled the room. They finished eating, then sat back to watch some TV. House hoped something on the tube would tickle JD's memory but nothing did. By 9:30 he could tell she was becoming tired. He went to get the bedding Wilson usually used when he camped out here. House sniffed the sheets to make sure they were clean, and brought them out to the living room. Tossing them at JD, he instructed, "Coffeemaker's in the kitchen. Use ten cups of water and grind the beans thirty-five seconds. Filters are next to the machine."

With that, he walked down the hall and into his bedroom, closing the door behind him.

House woke to the smell of freshly brewed coffee, and realized there wasn't much to eat for breakfast in his refrigerator or cupboards.

He used the bathroom, pulled on his jeans and a T-shirt, then joined JD in the kitchen.

"You have nothing to eat in this place," she pointed out. She stood at the counter drinking coffee.

House poured himself a cup. "There's cereal."

"Cap'n Crunch? There's no oatmeal!"

"You like oatmeal?" he asked, making a face.

"Not really. And there's no milk."

"OK, we'll go out for breakfast," he told her.

"Mind if I take a shower first?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Be my guest."

Twenty minutes later, dressed once again in her one outfit, JD was ready to go. "I'll be so glad to get more clothes later today!"

House was just opening the door when Wilson walked through, carrying two paper bags. "I figured you wouldn't have anything to feed JD, so I took the liberty of bringing breakfast."

"Oh, how thoughtful!" she said.

Wilson flashed her his boyish smile as he began removing items from the bags. "Bagels, cream cheese, I even brought some lox."

"Lox?" JD asked.

Wilson narrowed his eyes. "It's a smoked salmon," he explained. "Try it, you may like it. I brought coffee, too, but I see you've already made some."

"Yes."

"House doesn't usually bother. Well, dig in everyone," he said as he helped himself to a poppy seed bagel.

They were fresh, chewy with a crisp crust. Like everything else she'd eaten recently, JD tried to remember whether she'd ever eaten bagels before.

"You must have," Wilson said. "Trust me, unless you've been living in a remote part of the globe, totally cut off from civilization, you've eaten a bagel."

"Now there's a thought," House said. "Better yet, maybe she's an alien left behind by her mother ship."

Wilson shook his head. "She doesn't look anything like E.T."

"E.T. was a Hollywood alien. Maybe she's the real deal," House proposed.

"Well, I've got an appointment to see a new apartment," Wilson said as he finished his breakfast.

"You're finally moving out of the hotel?" House asked.

"Yeah. Maybe I'll come back later for dinner," Wilson suggested.

"We have plans," House told him cryptically. He wasn't going to say more. If he told Wilson where they were going he'd also have to tell him why, that he'd seen JD there before and that was the reason he was helping her.

Wilson looked disappointed. He liked the woman, enjoyed talking to her. He still wasn't sure about House's interest in her. "Another time," he said, and left.

JD cleaned up from their breakfast while House moved to the piano. He needed to think, and playing would help. He didn't usually like an audience, but maybe he'd spark a memory for her. He played a little of the tune that had been on the jukebox when he'd seen her at the bar.

She finished what she was doing and came back to sit on the couch to listen, well aware that she shouldn't crowd him on the piano bench.

"Do you recognize this?" he asked.

"No," she said. "Should I?"

He shrugged and continued playing.

"Why don't you play the song you were telling me about," she suggested.

"It's not one of my favorites," he said, but he played it anyway. When he came to the bridge he sang,

_Who can explain it_

_Who can tell you why_

_Fools give you reasons_

_Wise men never try._


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4.**

When House finished playing, JD said, "It's a beautiful song, haunting."

"It's schmaltzy," he proclaimed.

She smirked. "You never told Wilson or anyone else that you'd seen me before, did you? Why not?"

"Wilson would overanalyze my motives, then move on to why he thinks you don't want to remember," House said.

"Is that what you think?" she asked. "That I don't want to remember?"

House was saved from answering by a knock at the door. It was Cameron, ready for a shopping spree. "Ready?" she asked JD, almost completely ignoring House.

"Am I ever!"

"How much can she need?" House scoffed.

"Some people have a more extensive wardrobe than others" Cameron told him.

"Oh, like black AND blue vests? How do you expect to pay for this?"

"Don't worry. We won't ask you to spend a cent. Foreman, Chase, Wilson and I all chipped in," Cameron assured him.

"Oh, you didn't have to!" JD protested.

"Chase doesn't even know her!" House complained.

"None of us do," Cameron snapped.

"Not even me!" JD added, and they all laughed.

"OK, Get out of here! Both of you!" House said.

The two women were still laughing as they left. They got into Cameron's car and drove toward the nearest mall.

"He's a very strange man," JD commented.

"Yes, he is that," Cameron agreed. "And the longer you know him, the stranger he seems. But under the gruff exterior, the often rude, sometimes crude remarks, he's a brilliant, funny and ultimately good man."

"Sounds like you know him pretty well."

"I worked for him for three years. He put us through hell, but he also taught us more than we ever learned before, and he made us better doctors."

They'd reached the mall. "So, where to first? I figure you need all the basics, including shoes, clothes and toiletries" Cameron suggested.

"I guess," JD said. "Let's start with underwear, and maybe something comfortable. I rinsed out my panties and bra last night but I need more."

"Bet House had a field day ridiculing your lingerie hanging in his bathroom." Cameron had to laugh just imagining the sight.

"Yeah, well, he didn't say anything, but I could tell he wasn't thrilled," JD said.

They entered Macy's and went straight to the intimate apparel department. JD selected panties, bras, and a couple of sleep shirts, then they moved to the casual clothing department.

"Wouldn't it be great if a salesperson recognized me?" JD said, looking through a rack of jeans.

Cameron looked around. Most of the saleswomen were young, probably there was quite a bit of turnover in store employees. Then she had a thought. "Why don't we try Better Dresses. The outfit you're wearing came from there, if not in this store, then another just like it, and that type of department usually has more long term personnel."

"OK," JD said. "I'll just take these and we'll go." They paid for two pairs of jeans and a couple of tops and took the escalator up. They found the department selling outfits like the one JD was wearing.

A saleswoman approached them. "Can I help you?"

"The suit my friend's wearing, do you carry any like it?" Cameron asked.

The woman looked at JD and nodded. "We did carry that last season. I believe we may have some left in the back. I'll just…"

Cameron interrupted her. "No, we didn't want another. Um, JD couldn't remember where she got it and we wondered if it was here."

"Well, it was very popular. All of our branches carried it, I think."

Cameron's heart sank. There were hundreds of branches of Macy's all over the country. And if Macy's sold the suit, then other department stores did, too. "Oh, well, it was a good idea while it lasted."

They spent another two hours shopping, stopped on the way back at a CVS for toiletries, and then at a grocery store for some food, arriving back at House's apartment at 5:30.

While Cameron and JD were shopping, House received another visitor, make that two. He opened the door on the first knock with a snarl. "Back already?" But he saw that it was the two police sergeants. "Oh, it's you. So?"

"Her fingerprints aren't in our database," Maria told him.

"Good to know I'm not harboring a pickpocket, or an ax murderer for that matter," House replied.

Mitch shook his head. "Still no reports of a 5'6" blond, missing since yesterday. I'm beginning to think she's not from around here."

"Or someone doesn't care that she hasn't shown up," House suggested as another possibility.

"Aw, c'mon. You've seen her. Who wouldn't miss a woman like that?" Mitch insisted.

House had to agree. "So what do we do now?"

"Well WE follow-up on the little we have," Maria told him. "There was nothing on the clothes she was wearing or in the alley, no fingerprints, but we'll keep looking. Not much else we can do. By the way, where is she? We were told she'd be here."

"Dr. Cameron took her to buy some clothes," House replied. "They'll probably get lost at the mall. You know girls and shopping."

Maria didn't take the bait. She smiled instead and said, "Yes, I do. Well, give us a call if she remembers anything."

"Sure," House said. "Anything for the Princeton-Plainsboro PD." He watched them go, then closed the door. He needed to think of something else he could do, in addition to taking JD to the bar.

Cameron and JD were laughing again as they carried all their packages into House's apartment.

"You leave anything behind for all the other shoppers?" House asked.

"That's weak, House," Cameron replied. "We would've brought dinner, too, but JD said you had plans, so we just bought some groceries." She put the bags she was carrying on the floor near the couch. "I'll be right back with the chest."

JD took two grocery bags to the kitchen and began unpacking them.

When Cameron returned lugging a small piece of furniture, House raised an eyebrow. "We got a small chest to hold my things," JD told him. "Aren't you going to help her?"

"Cripple here," House said, brandishing his cane, so JD helped Cameron place the chest in an out of the way corner of the room.

"Well, I'm gonna head out," Cameron said. "It's been fun."

"Thank you," JD told her. "For everything."

"My pleasure," Cameron said. "Bye, House" and she was gone.

JD began to unpack her shopping bags and fill the drawers of the chest.

"The coppers were here. No news, just checking in to see if you'd remembered anything," House reported.

JD nodded. "So, how should I dress for this bar?" she asked.

She'd been wearing something similar to her current outfit the time he'd seen her there before. "What you've got on will do" House said.

"House! The reason we went shopping today was so that I could find some other clothes. This is practically all I've been wearing for days," she said. "I'm going to shower and change." She grabbed shampoo and shower gel, new panties and bra, a skirt and one of the nicer tops she'd gotten. They would have to do.

As she walked towards the bathroom, House called, "Need your back scrubbed?" But she didn't reply.

She returned from the bathroom twenty minutes later. "That's better," she said. She put the old clothes in one of the shopping bags. "Is there a laundromat nearby?" she asked.

"Yeah, I'll show you where it is on the way," House told her.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5.**

House and JD left his apartment and walked together to where his car was parked. The smell of her freshly washed hair was pleasant, reminding House of a Spring morning. They stopped at a diner for a quick meal and then continued on to Flannagans.

The place was more crowded than the last time House had been there. The ginger-haired bartender was still there, but House couldn't tell if any of the waitresses were the same. The pretty and shapely young women in their matching short skirts and low cut tops all looked eerily alike.

They found a small table near the jukebox. JD looked around. The place still looked new. "Nice place," she commented.

"Would I take you to any other kind?" House replied.

"No comment," she snarked.

One of the identical waitresses came over for their order.

"Have you worked here long?" House asked.

"No. I just started last week," she said in a very young perky voice that went with her very young perky face.

"Have any of the waitresses been here since the place opened?"

"Boy, you're subtle," JD said.

"Well, how else am I gonna find out if I don't ask?" House explained.

"Um, I think Kitty's the only one," the girl, whose name tag read 'Ellie', said.

"Which one is she?"

"The tall woman, over near the bar," Ellie told them. "But this is my table," she added possessively.

"That's OK," JD told her. "You can get me…hmm, House, what would you suggest?"

"Get me a scotch and a White Russian for the lady," House said. "And tell Kitty we want to talk to her."

As the girl walked away, JD said, "White Russian?"

House shrugged. "I have no idea what you drink. Seemed a safe bet. You look like the White Russian type."

JD made a face at him.

Ellie returned with their drinks. "Kitty will be right over."

"Thank you," JD said, trying to make amends for House's lack of manners. She began to sip her drink. It tasted OK, but it didn't tug at her memories the way the burger had the day before.

Kitty was tall, with redder hair than the mostly-blond waitresses. "Ellie said you wanted to see me." She looked from House to JD and back again.

"Do you recognize either of us?" House asked.

She looked again. "You were in the week we opened. Sat at the bar and left after finishing half a bottle."

House nodded. "And my friend?" He watched her, imagining her mind going through a rolodex of faces that had come and gone in the five or six weeks since the place had opened.

"Uh, yeah. I think so," she said. "Sorry. I don't remember women as well as the men," she apologized."

"Can you picture the man she was with?" House asked.

"Hmmm." She seemed to think about it, then shook her head. "Sorry, no. Why are you asking?"

"Guy took her money. We need to find him," House lied glibly to JD's astonishment.

"Yeah, I get it." The waitress bought the story. "Well, good luck finding the no-good bum!" she said and walked off. She had paying customers to serve.

JD saw that House was as disappointed as she was. She'd been counting on someone recognizing her.

"OK. There's something else we can try while we're here," House said. "Come on over to the jukebox."

John Coltrane's saxophone was playing 'My Favorite Things'. House took out a crisp dollar bill and inserted it, then chose the song that had been playing that night. It hadn't triggered anything when he played it on his piano, but maybe the original recording in this setting would.

"JD, look over the selections," he said. The Coltrane recording stopped, and 'Round Midnight' began. He watched her face as her eyes scanned the titles. He could sense nothing, no sign of recognition of the song or the environment. House sighed. He took her hand and she looked at him. "C'mon. Might as well drink our drinks and leave. This isn't working."

As they walked back to their table she asked, "What were you expecting?"

"Some response, to the song, the jukebox, this place."

"You were playing this song last night," she said.

"Yeah. It doesn't mean anything to you, does it?"

She shook her head.

"So we've got to come up with a different approach," he told her, taking a long drink of his scotch.

"But what?" she asked.

"I have no idea" he replied.

As they drove back to the apartment, JD related Cameron's idea about finding a salesperson who knew her, and their failure at Macy's that afternoon. "There are just too many department stores."

"We can start with those in a thirty mile radius, but that would still take forever," House said.

"Admit it. The prospect of going shopping with me doesn't thrill you," JD quipped.

"Yeah, there is that. Although, I'm sure we can get Cameron or Cuddy to take you. No, there's gotta be an easier way." He was caught up in the puzzle and how to solve it.

JD smiled. Yes, he was a strange man, but a good one to have helping her.

When he woke Sunday morning, House could hear her banging pans in the kitchen, humming a tune. It was a little off key, but definitely 'Round Midnight'. He pulled on his jeans and a clean T-shirt before joining her. He reached over her shoulder to snitch a rasher of bacon from the pan. She gently rapped the top of his hand with a spatula and laughed.

"Hand me a plate." She dished out bacon and eggs, added toast from the toaster, and handed it to him. Then she poured their coffee.

As they ate he said "You're handy to have around."

"Maybe I was a chef, or at least a cook" she supposed.

"Or maybe you had a huge family that you cooked for night and day."

She thought about that. "Then why aren't they looking for me? They must be hungry by now." He had to chuckle.

They finished breakfast in silence, each thinking about all the possibilities. Then she took the dishes to the sink, and washed them and the pans. "I'm gonna take a shower and get dressed. What are we doing today?"

House shrugged. "_I'm_ gonna watch all the shows I Tivo'd this week" he said. "_You_ can do whatever you like."

"OK" she said.

"There's a football game I wanna watch, too" he said as she started to walk down the hall, but that didn't get any reaction either.

So they spent the day watching House's favorite shows and a New York Jets football game, with an occasional break for a meal. The only program that even seemed slightly familiar to JD was General Hospital, but she decided that was because she'd just been in a hospital herself.

House fast-forwarded through the commercials so that they could watch even more programs. It wasn't until eight in the evening, when he got tired of fast-forwarding, that she saw an advertisement. Immediately she told House to rewind.

"I know that actress!" she said about a woman diapering a baby in a Pampers commercial. "I don't know how I know her, but I do."

"Name?" House prompted.

She just shook her head.

"Well we can contact Proctor and Gamble, ask what agency they used to cast this and then contact her" House suggested.

"Just like that?" JD asked.

"It won't be easy. They must do hundreds of commercials every year, but, yeah, just like that."

"Oh, House!" She was excited. Maybe this was the lead they needed. She put her hands on either side of his face and kissed his forehead. "You're wonderful!" But then she pulled back, embarrassed. House stared into her eyes, unsure of what was happening.

The next day House began his quest. He called the advertising department of Proctor and Gamble. "Hi, I wonder if you can tell me what advertising agency you use for your Pampers commercials" he said in his pleasantest voice.

It turned out that they used three, and that the young man (well, he sounded young) on the phone wasn't sure which had done the commercial he was asking about. It didn't help that all the commercials were similar.

"Thank you. You've been very helpful" House said, waiting until he disconnected to add 'not'. Next he tried the three agencies. He got an answering machine at the first one, and left a message to call him. The woman who picked up at the second said that they hadn't done any Pampers commercials for two years. The records at the third agency weren't organized in a way that would allow them to tell him who'd been in what commercials.

"If I sent you a screen capture of the actress, would someone, anyone be able to identify her?" House asked.

"Why do you want to know? You're not a stalker are you?" The woman had suddenly become suspicious.

"No, no. I…uh…I'm making an Indie film and she has just the look I want for the young mother."

"Well, if you send the picture, someone might be able to ID it and then we'd let her decide whether or not to contact you" the woman said guardedly.

"Fair enough. I'll send it tomorrow." House just hoped they could find the commercial again, and he could get a screen cap.

He felt like he'd done all he could for the day. Time for lunch. He walked into Wilson's office. "Feed me!" he stated.

A distraught looking couple were seated facing Wilson's desk.

"House!" Wilson looked apologetically at the couple, then back to his friend. "I'll meet you in the cafeteria.

"Don't be long" House said, then turned to the couple. "He really is a Boy Wonder Oncologist, you know."

"House!"

"I'm going!"

Wilson didn't take long to meet up with him just inside the cafeteria. He was actually anxious to pump his friend about JD, and what House had done with her over the weekend. Anxious enough that he didn't even blink when House picked out the most expensive lunch he could find. But House didn't give an inch, using his well-honed avoidance techniques.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6.

At about 2:30, Foreman entered House's office to find him playing online solitaire.

"I had an idea," the Neurologist said. "Maybe we should hypnotize JD."

"That's a terrible idea!" House exclaimed.

"Why, because I had it?" Foreman asked.

"No, because hypnosis doesn't work. There are no medical grounds for it. You of all people should know that hypnotherapy is not recommended for patients recovering from head injuries," House pointed out.

"Psychotherapy, then," Foreman said. "Both have been used successfully on amnesia patients," he argued.

"Well, you're not gonna try either on _my_ amnesia patient!"

"Why not? Don't you want her to remember?"

"Of course I do," House protested. "Do you think I like having her underfoot? Filling my bathroom with her girly stuff?"

"Then give psychotherapy a try. Why don't you ask her if she wants to do it?"

"Do you have amnesia now? She can't remember, therefore she doesn't have any remembered experiences to base her decision on," House said. "Besides, she'll say 'no'."

"How do you know?" Foreman asked.

Instead of answering, House said, "The only one who needs psychotherapy is the Neurologist who'd suggest hypnotherapy for someone with traumatic amnesia."

Foreman shook his head, but gave up trying to convince House to try medical means to treat JD.

House arrived home at 5:30 to find JD glued to the tube. "Honey, I'm home," he sang out. "Have you seen anyone else you know?"

She shook her head. "Oh, some of the faces seem familiar, but I've probably just seen these programs before. Hey, did you know that the name coffee comes from the Arabic word qahwah, meaning wine?"

"Fancy that," he replied facetiously.

"Yeah, well it was news to me." She got up off the couch and went to the kitchen. "I'm making duck a l'orange, except we only had chicken, but the principles the same."

"Maybe you were a chef," he mused.

"I don't think so. I was watching the Food Channel and Emeril made it," she explained.

"Smells good." House sounded surprised.

"It does, doesn't it?" She spooned some orange sauce over the chicken and stirred the rice. "So, what did you find out about the diaper lady?"

House shook his head. Somehow he didn't want to disappoint her but he wasn't going to lie. "It may be a dead end. I'll know after I do a screen capture from the commercial and send it to one of the ad agencies that Proctor and Gamble uses to see if anyone there recognizes her."

"They don't know who they've used in their ads?" she asked.

"Seems that way."

"Bummer!"

She looked so disappointed but at the same time adorable in her low-rise jeans and light blue baby T, her hair in a long ponytail, and her feet in bunny slippers.

"You gotta lose those slippers," he said, looking disgusted.

"I like them," she said. "They're cute and comfortable."

House had an odd thought that the slippers weren't the only things that were.

"Did you want to wash-up or something?" she asked. "Supper's almost ready."

As he limped to the bathroom he remarked, "You call it supper, don't you?"

"Yeah, is that supposed to mean something?"

"I'll have to think about it." Anything might be a clue to who she was. He was back soon and ready to eat.

JD brought him a plate of the chicken and rice and a cold beer, then got the same for herself. They ate in silence for a while except for a "Hmmm, good" from him and a "Not bad" from her. When they'd finished everything on their plates, she offered him more.

"Not right now. Maybe later."

She took the plates to the kitchen and returned with bowls of ice cream. House smiled as he took his. Yes, he could get used to this all too quickly.

"Foreman suggested we try hypnotherapy," he told her.

"Your voice tells me you reject the idea," she said.

House nodded. "First, it's not really scientific, and second, it's not a good idea with the kind of head injury you've just had."

"OK" she said, taking his opinion as gospel. "Is there anything else? A drug? Some other kind of therapy?" she asked.

"His alternative was psychotherapy."

"But again, you disagree," she concluded.

Did she already know him so well that she could pick up on that, or was she just good at reading people? "Your memories can still come back spontaneously," House said. "Let's give it a few more days before we try anything radical." He couldn't believe he was taking the safe route. What was he risking by using any means necessary to restore her memory?

While she washed the dishes, House found the Tivo'd commercial and captured the image of the actress that JD had recognized. He'd send it to the agency in the morning. Right now it was time for Monday Night Football.

JD joined him on the couch, bringing a bowl of popcorn and more beer. She sat there cross-legged, munching on the popcorn and washing it down with a gulp of her drink. Tonight's game was Giants vs. Dallas. House had to smile as JD really got into the game, much more than she had for the Jets game the day before. She was obviously rooting for the Giants. He wondered if he should mention seeing her at the Meadowlands. That had been a Giants game too, come to think of it.

She stayed awake until the game ended close to midnight. She collected their empty beer cans and took them to the kitchen. House followed with the now-empty popcorn bowl.

"Well, goodnight," she said, grabbing her nightshirt and heading for the bathroom to get ready for bed.

"Yeah," he said thoughtfully. "Goodnight."

The next morning she made him French toast. Even Wilson didn't do that (although his pancakes were nothing to sneeze at). Once he'd eaten, she sent House off to work.

His team had diagnosed their patient the day before, so all they had to do now was oversee the treatment, leaving House free to send off his screen capture to the advertising agency, retry the agency that hadn't answered on Monday, again getting no response, and figure out what the hell he'd do if they never found out who JD really was.

By the afternoon the agency he'd sent the picture to called back to say the only thing anyone working there now knew was that the actress was named Mary Walker. It might as well have been Jane Doe. Oh, wait, they already had one of those.

They were running out of moves.

By the middle of the week, House and JD had fallen into a routine. She made him breakfast and coffee in the morning, he'd leave for PPTH, and she'd spend much of the day watching TV, looking fruitlessly for another familiar face. Some afternoons, she'd go out for a walk, exploring the neighborhood, and hoping to see something that would seem familiar to her.

Every few days she'd phone Mitch and Maria to check whether the police had made any progress, but they never had any news for her.

In the late afternoons, she'd prepare dinner. She found a supermarket not too far away and stocked up on ingredients. She made Hungarian goulash one night, sweet and sour pork another. House told her it was way better than take-out.

In the evening they watched his choice of programs, movies and sports, sitting companionably side by side on the couch. Some evenings JD was able to coax House into playing his piano for her.

And through it all, they'd each occasionally take surreptitious glances at the other. House was fascinated by her spontaneity, her easy laugh, and the lovely face with the slightly crooked smile. She was just as fascinated by his sense of humor, vast knowledge, and of course, his incredible eyes.

House's friends and colleagues hadn't understood his need to tackle the puzzle that was Jane Doe, and then couldn't understand why she voluntarily stayed with him. She had offers from both Cameron and Cuddy of an alternate place to stay. But she wasn't interested, happy to remain right where she was.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7.**

The second Tuesday after JD had entered their lives, while they were eating lunch, Wilson tried one more time to get House to explain.

"She keeps you from wallowing in self-pity and misery." This opening salvo was easily deflected.

"_You _said I like to be miserable," House said. "Have you ever heard me say it?"

"You could never stand to have me stick around for more than a few days when I stayed at your place," Wilson accused.

"You're afraid I have a new bestest friend," House countered with glee.

"OK. Once and for all. What is it about this woman that fascinates you so much?"

"Have you seen her?" House asked. "Besides, she's a better cook than you and she never, ever tries to analyze my actions or convince me to be a better person."

"Wait a minute. Are you falling in love with her?" Wilson was astonished. "You are, aren't you?"

"Don't be absurd. I don't even know who she is."

"But that's just it. She's the ultimate mystery. A puzzle right up your alley." Wilson was quite pleased with his own explanation. "That's it, isn't it?"

"Believe what you want," House said, determined not to give Wilson the satisfaction of knowing he had a piece of it. After all, it was just a little piece.

Once in a while, House brought JD to the hospital with him. She and Cameron had become friends, which was hard for House to understand. JD had liked both Wilson and Foreman from the start, and she'd finally gotten to meet Chase, Cuddy and House's team. Knowing the other people in his life helped her understand him a little better, although she knew she'd never be an authority on Gregory House. Foreman made one last ditch effort to get them to agree to psychotherapy, but they absolutely refused.

On the weekends House would take her out for a meal or two. On one of those occasions, they went to a Thai restaurant that House liked. As they ate their Tum Yum Gai soup, a man walking by did a double-take.

"Dara?" He seemed astounded to see 'Dara' sitting in a restaurant in Princeton, New Jersey.

"Do you know me?" JD asked hopefully.

The man came closer. "You look like someone I know, knew that is. Dara Courtright."

House was watching her face. There was no sign of recognition of the name or this man. "How do you know her?" he asked.

"She was engaged to my brother Peter. After he was killed in a car accident, we lost touch and she just…disappeared," the man said.

"When was that?" House asked, getting in the man's face. "How do you know this is Dara?"

The man shrank back. "She…she looks like Dara. I…I don't know, I only met her twice."

"When did your brother die?" House asked.

"A year ago, well eleven months, actually."

"JD?"

"I don't know." She was shaking her head. "None of this sounds familiar. None of it resonates with me."

"What do you mean?" the man asked.

"I've got amnesia," she said. "I don't know who I am."

"What do you know about Dara?" House demanded. "What did she do?"

"Do?" the man echoed. "Um, she was a hairdresser."

"You're kidding, right?" JD said. "No way was I a hairdresser!"

"What do you have against hairdressers?" he countered.

But House and JD ignored him. "Tell us all you know about Dara Courtright," House ordered. "We should be able to prove one way or the other that JD isn't her."

"I don't know much," the man said, pulling up a chair. "I'm Paul, by the way. Paul Arnaud. Peter met her through a friend, well, an acquaintance really. Sam Thomas or Thompson, I think. A guy he knew from his health club. Anyway, Sam gave him Dara's number, they met for drinks, two days later for dinner, and the rest, as they say, is history. Or should have been."

House took out his PDA to get this down. "OK, you said Sam Thomas or Thompson. Do you know which health club?"

"Um, no. But it was near his apartment on West 14th."

"West 14th ? There's no West 14th in Princeton," House stated. 

"No, no. In New York City," Paul explained.

"OK, where did your brother work? And where did Dara work?" House's questions kept coming.

"He worked for a brokerage firm. Thatcher and Hastings. I'm sorry, I don't know about Dara."

"Well, this gives us something to work with," House said.

But JD was shaking her head. "It still doesn't sound familiar."

"Don't you want to check it out?" House asked her. "Maybe you've just repressed the memories because Peter's death was too painful for you." He said the last as gently as he knew how.

"Yes, of course I want to check any possible leads," she said, but she didn't sound very convincing.

"If you think of anything else, you can call me," House told Paul, handing him a slightly crumpled business card.

The man shook his head and stood, took one last look at JD and left.

"What's wrong? I thought you'd be excited," House said.

She smiled at him. "I am. I guess I'm afraid that it's just another dead end."

House spent the next day trying to track down a Dara Courtwright, who may or may not have lived in New York City, and may or may not have had a cosmetology license. He also found the names of two health clubs in the part of Manhatten where Peter Arnaud had lived, Total Fitness and the Downtown Health Club. Staff at Thatcher and Hastings refused to give out any information about Peter.

He couldn't find any sign of a Dara Courtwright after a point ten months before when she quit her job at a salon in Greenwich Village and broke the lease on her apartment to leave New York.

That evening over a dinner of baked ziti, he told JD his results. "We can go see the people who worked with her and see if we can find Peter's health club buddy," he suggested.

"You mean go to New York City?" she asked.

"Is there a problem with that?" he wondered.

"No! It's a great idea," JD said, smiling at his eagerness to help her find out who she was. And going to New York struck her as something she'd really like to do.

"I'll take the day off tomorrow and we can drive up there in the morning," House told her.

The next morning they drove into the city. OK it was almost noon by the time they got started. House rarely made the almost two hour trip, partly because parking was so hard to find, and cost an arm and a leg, and he only had one good leg left.

They found a garage near Washington Square then walked up Fifth Avenue to 15th, where Total Fitness was located. The receptionist that greeted them looked like a model. The entry was very modern, all glass and steel. "Can I help you?" she asked, flashing a brilliant smile.

House had told JD to follow his lead. He put on his most solemn face. "My cousin was a member here, I think. Sadly, he passed away eleven months ago. The family has been devastated. We're only now coming to grips with our loss. We believe he left some items in his locker here. Would…would we be able to retrieve them?" He could see the young woman follow his story intently, mirroring his mood.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Mr…?"

"My name is Jones," House said.

"And your cousin?" she asked.

"Peter Arnaud."

She pulled up the club's membership list on her terminal. "Hmmm, I don't see any Peter Arnaud," she said, sounding very apologetic. "Are you sure he was a member here?"

"Well…"

"Maybe he belonged to the Downtown Health Club. It's a few blocks down," she suggested. "Again, I'm sorry."

"Yes, well, thank you. You've been so kind," JD said, and she and House left.

"Well, that was a waste," House muttered.

"But it eliminated this place."

"True."

They easily found the Downtown Health Club not far away. House tried the same approach again, this time with the tall and muscular man sitting at the reception desk. He obviously made good use of the club's equipment.

"Name sounds familiar. Arnaud, Arnaud," he repeated, looking through the online records. "Yes, he was a member for three years. Poor guy. Now I remember. Car crash, wasn't it?"

"Yes," House confirmed. "One of his friends here, Sam…is he still a member?"

"Sam? Sure. Everyone knows Sam." He glanced to his right towards a pair of double doors, probably leading to the lockers and exercise rooms. "I think he's in the weight room right now. If you want to talk to him you can wait."

"Can I…" House motioned walking with his fingers to indicate he wanted to go through the doors.

The young man looked him over, noted his athletic shoes, jeans and T-shirt. "Sure. Just don't be too long. We're not supposed to let anyone in who's not a member."

House nodded and walked off, leaving JD to wait for him. Once he'd passed through the doors he saw a glass door to his right marked 'Men's showers' and one to the right marked 'Women's showers'. He continued on and found the entrance to the weight room.

A line of weight machines ran down one side of the room, while a small section held benches and free weights. There were elliptical machines and some kinds of equipment he'd never seen before. Five men and one woman were working out on the various machines. How would he know which was Sam? Well, one of the men was older than he was, so that probably left four.

House approached the closest man. "Sam?" he asked.

A voice materialized from behind a rowing machine and a really short man came forward. House hadn't even seen him before. Technically he couldn't be considered a midget, but he wasn't much over five feet tall. "I'm Sam," he announced.

"Right," House said, smiling slightly. "You were a friend of Peter Arnaud's?"

"You could say that," Sam said. "We weren't close or anything, but we saw each other here, and other places too, grabbed a meal together once in a while. He was a good guy."

"Yeah," House said noncommittally. How was he going to get the man to identify JD? "Would you have time to talk to me about him?"

The short man studied him.

"I'm a cousin. The family sent me to pick up anything he left here and at his office," House lied again, but he convinced the man.

"There's a juice bar next door. I'll shower and change and meet you there in say twenty minutes," Sam said.

House nodded, and limped off.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8.**

He and JD sat at a table in the juice bar, waiting impatiently for the man who might or might not know her. House could see her anxiety, and wondered once again why he was so compelled to help her.

Finally Sam arrived. House studied JD's face, especially her eyes, when she first saw the man. He'd told her that Sam was height-challenged, but she still seemed surprised by his size, and showed no sign of recognition.

"So?" House asked her quietly before Sam reached their table. "Anything?"

She shook her head very slightly.

Sam came over. He was staring at JD. "Are you a cousin of Dara's?" he asked.

"Do I look that much like her?" she asked.

"Well, yeah. Of course, she's much shorter than you. Around my size," Sam said.

"You're sure?" House asked.

"Well, of course I am. Not too many women out there that aren't taller than me," he said with a little chuckle and an eyebrow wriggle. "It's not a man's height that matters, ya know. If you know what I mean."

"You introduced them, didn't you?" JD asked. "Dara and Peter?" House wondered why she was so interested.

"Yeah, that's right" Sam admitted.

"I would've thought you'd want her for yourself," she commented.

"Nah . For one thing, she could never get into the whole vegetarian lifestyle," he told her.

"Like you have," House said.

"Absolutely. But she was OK otherwise. Pretty smart, a great kisser," Sam told them. "So how come the family sent you to get Peter's stuff?" It was his turn to ask questions.

"We were coming to New York anyway," House said. Now that Sam had confirmed that JD wasn't Dara, he was ready to leave, but he wasn't sure how to get away from the affable Sam.

"It's been a pleasure to talk to a friend of Dara and Peter's," JD said smoothly, then made a show of looking at the Timex she'd recently bought. "Oh, honey, I think we'd better go. We didn't want to keep Mr. Hamburger waiting."

'Good girl' he thought to himself. "Do we have to go?" He pretended to whine. "I wanna talk to Sam some more."

"Maybe some other time," she said. "It's been a pleasure to meet you, Sam." She offered her hand and the man shook it, then kissed it.

"The pleasure was all mine, pretty lady," he said with a smile.

They were able to make their escape. There was no sense hanging around any longer, and House had a feeling that JD was hungry for something they wouldn't find at the juice bar. Twenty minutes later they'd retrieved House's car and were on the road heading back to New Jersey.

"I told you there was no way that I was a hairdresser," JD said.

"Don't assume," House said. "Just because you're not Dara doesn't mean that you weren't a hairdresser, too."

"I do think, though, that my name does begin with a 'D'," she mused, ignoring his comment.

"Daphne?" House guessed. "Dolly?"

"No, but there are lots of other names," she said.

Once they were back on the other side of the Hudson River they stopped for hamburgers, then resumed driving south on I95.

"House, what's gonna happen when we find out who I am?" she suddenly asked.

"Whaddya mean?" But he knew exactly what she was thinking about. He'd been thinking about it himself all day.

"I guess I'll go back to my old life," she said.

"Yeah, the hubby and eight kids. And the job as a hairdresser."

"Be serious for once," she told him. "I…I think I'm going to miss everyone. Cameron and Foreman, Wilson, Chase and his floppy hair, and Cuddy."

He took his eyes off the road very briefly to look at her. She hadn't mentioned him. Why did that hurt?

"Of course, I'll miss you the most you know," she said.

He swallowed, focused on the road in front of him and the traffic around him. "You'll probably forget about us. You've had practice doing that. You'll become wrapped up in your own world again."

She shook her head. "I'll never forget you. If I'd known you before all this happened to me, I would have remembered you if nothing else. I'm convinced of that."

There wasn't much he could say after that. They rode the rest of the way back to Princeton in silence. When they arrived back at the apartment, JD still didn't know how to get a conversation going again. "Should I make supper?" she asked.

"Don't bother," House said. "We'll order in."

She knew that she'd just reminded him that this was just a temporary arrangement, and he'd decided to back away from his growing attachment to her, from how comfortable he felt having her around. "Pizza or Chinese?" she asked, willing to let him pull back, at least for now.

"Pizza's OK," he said. "We just had burgers a little while ago."

It was strange, because her reaction to the thought that this could end at any time was just the opposite. She wanted to get even closer to him in the time she had left. She suddenly realized that she'd become very attracted to this man. But what could she do about it, if he didn't feel the same way?

She ordered the pizza and brought him a beer. The look on his face gave her chills. Maybe she should make herself scarce, but where could she go in the small apartment?

He'd taken a seat at his piano, so she sat on the couch. After a while, she sighed and said "Of course, it's possible that I'll never get my memory back, and no one will ever be looking for me. Or if they do, maybe I won't want to go back," she speculated.

"You will," he predicted. "Even if you were running away from some part of your life, the rest was probably a lot better for you than this."

"Is that what you think? That I was running away?" she asked.

House's fingers began picking out the song that was now very familiar to JD. He'd sung bits and pieces of it each time he played it.

"How does the song end?" JD asked.

House stopped playing. He swallowed, then began playing again. "_Once you have found her never let her go. Once you have found her ne-ver-let-her-go_" he sang.

JD felt the hot tears fill her eyes. She couldn't hold back her emotions. In a few short steps she'd reached him and her arms encircled his neck. "Oh, Greg! I could never leave you!" she cried.

He wanted to believe her, wanted to hold on to the happiness she brought him. Wanted to ignore his logical, realistic and pessimistic mind that told him it was just a matter of time until it ended. And then she moved around in front of him and kissed him, giving him a reason to believe.

"Let's make the most of the time we have," she said. "I don't want to think about the future tonight. Just hold me, make love to me Greg."

He made one last effort to listen to his better judgment. "It'll only make things worse when you leave," he warned.

"I don't care," JD said. "I just want to be happy right now."

"You're sure? Absolutely?"

She nodded. "Absolutely."

She sat down beside him on the piano bench, hip to hip, staring into his blue eyes. He stared back into her gray ones, and ran a finger down her soft cheek eliciting one of her slightly crooked smiles. Time seemed to stand still.

The bubble was burst by the ringing of the doorbell. Reluctantly, JD got up and went to collect the pizza box from the delivery kid. House followed her to the door and paid him.

"Food first?" she asked.

"I have a feeling we'll need the energy," he said flippantly.

She smiled again. They each placed a couple of slices on a plate and took them to the couch where they sat side by side again. But after just a few bites, they abandoned the pizza. House kissed her, and his hands began their exploration. She leaned into him, allowing easier access, and kissing his eyelids.

"I want you," he said, kissing the hollow in her neck. "And I need you." His kisses trailed lower as he opened her blouse, exposing the creamy skin above her bra. He could feel her heart racing. Or was that his? "I can't promise you anything. And intellectually, I know that this will end badly. But I want you and need you so much."

The feel of his bristly cheek against her skin, his lips on the upper swell of her breast, sent tingles of desire through her. She blew in his ear, then giggled. "I've seen people do that on TV and wanted to try it." Then she nibbled his ear and he laughed.

She began to unbutton his shirt. All those layers to get through. Slowly they undressed each other, but halfway through the process, without a word, they both rose and they walked hand in hand to the bedroom, removing and discarding clothes as they went.

Lying naked together in bed felt strange yet wonderful to both of them. They sought comfort in each other's bodies. Their lovemaking was intense and utterly satisfying. Finally, they pulled apart, and took the time to study each other. He looked at her body, not clinically but more as a man admires the form of a woman. Full but firm breasts, a flat stomach, shapely hips. All very desirable.

"That was incredible," JD murmured.

"It's been a while," his voice trailed off.

"Of course, I can't be sure, but I don't think I've ever felt quite like this before," she moved closer again and threw her arm around him, resting her cheek against his chest and looking up at his beautiful eyes. "Thank you."

He smoothed her hair. "No, thank you."

She smiled. "So, handsome, where do we go from here?" she asked.

"Guess you're doing this so that you won't have to sleep on the couch any more," House said as he twirled a strand of blond hair around one of his long fingers.

"Oh, this is so much better!" JD exclaimed. "No, I guess you're gonna have to share your bed from now on."

They kissed again. And again. Their passion increased. JD felt the urge to memorize his body, every inch of it. She explored him with her eyes, her hands, her lips. His long fingers were magical. She relished every touch. They made love twice more before morning.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9.**

Over the next week, they grew even closer. And with that House opened up to her, feeling safe and comfortable with this woman. He told her a little about his life, his father, Stacy. But she had nothing to share with him in exchange.

They no longer made their periodic calls to Levy and Perez to check on any progress the police were making. They no longer cared.

They both lived for their nights together, for the ecstasy they brought each other. Their bodies fit well together. They'd each discovered each other's most sensitive spots and used them to advantage.

One night over a supper of broiled scallops, broccoli and rice, JD suddenly said "I want to get a job."

House looked at her face to see whether she was serious. "What would you do?"

"Well, much as I like cooking for you, I don't think I want to work in a restaurant" she said. She really hadn't thought too much about it.

"There may be something you can do at the hospital" House suggested. "We can talk to Cuddy about it." He was warming to the idea of having her nearby all day as well as all night.

She smiled her lopsided smile and said "OK."

There are several very nice neighborhoods not far from Princeton, New Jersey. One is Forest Glen, a community of just two square miles with colonial and ranch style homes on quarter acre landscaped lots.

The Worthington family had lived in one of those houses for the past eleven years. The father, Jack, was a corporate lawyer, and his wife, Delia, was a stay-at-home mom to their six-year-old son Colin and four-year-old daughter Addie. But for the past month, Jack's mother, Regina, had been there to care for the two children.

Jack had called his mother to ask for her help. He'd told her that Delia had left for a little trip to see her sister. He couldn't very well tell her that his wife needed time away to decide whether to forgive him for an affair with his secretary.

When the kids and his mother asked why Delia never called, he shrugged it off. After Colin and Addie asked a few times whether their mother still loved them, and he didn't answer, they stopped asking. But now a month had gone by and even Jack began to worry.

One morning on his way to his office he stopped at the local police station. "I want to report a missing person" he told the clerk at the front desk.

The young woman handed him a form. "Fill this out and if you have a photo, attach it" she said in a bored voice.

Jack found a photo in his wallet, one that showed Dee's shiny blond hair and clear gray eyes, her quirky grin, testimony to her good nature. He stared at it, wondering for the thousandth time how he could've been such a jerk as to cheat on her. Yes, his secretary was very sexy, with legs that went on forever, and come hither eyes, but she couldn't hold a candle to his wife.

He turned in the filled out form with the picture attached and was told to have a seat. Five minutes later a uniformed officer came over to him.

"Mr. Worthington? I'm Officer Steele. I have a few questions before we proceed" he said.

"Sure" Jack said.

"It says here the last time you saw your wife was a month ago, and yet you waited until now to report this?" the cop asked.

Jack knew this question was coming and was prepared. "She wasn't due back until last week or this one. But she never returned, and we haven't heard from her at all."

"Where did she go?"

"I…I honestly don't know. She said she might go to visit her sister Melissa, but I called Melissa last night. She hasn't heard from Dee either."

Steele looked at the picture. "She's a looker all right" he commented. "Did she have a boyfriend on the side?"

"No!" Jack objected. "We had an argument. I…she found out that I had a brief affair with my secretary, and she said she needed to get away to think about it. This doesn't have to come out, does it? I haven't told my mother or the children, of course."

"Don't you think they deserve to know why your wife left?" Steele asked. "You said she was due back this week."

"She said she'd be back in two to three weeks, actually."

"What about checking accounts, credit cards? Any activity to let us know where she is?"

"I haven't really checked!" Jack wondered why he hadn't thought of this. "That's a good place to start. I'll check on that today."

"We'll see what we can do" Steele offered. "But I gotta warn you. If she wanted to get lost, she could stay lost for quite a while."

"She'd never do that to the kids. She may have been angry at me, but she loves them. I know she does" Jack said with conviction.

"OK. Let us know what you find out from the banks and credit card companies" the cop said. "One more thing. What kind of car was she driving?"

"A 2005 Taurus. Silver."

"Do you happen to know the license plate?" Steele asked.

Jack smiled wryly. "DELIA" he said.

"OK, we'll look for the car, too." Steele shook Jack's hand and walked off.

Jack continued on to his office, but instead of attacking the pile of papers waiting in his 'in' box, he got on the phone to his bank. An hour and ten phone calls later he was ready to admit defeat. Dee hadn't used a single credit card or written a single check for the past month.

Oblivious to the events occurring in Forest Glen, House took JD with him to the hospital. Cuddy had offered her the position as her assistant, hoping she'd stick around longer than the eight previous assistants she had. JD was nervous. She had no idea whether she had the skills to do the job, but she was willing to try.

House was amazed at the number of people who greeted JD as they walked through the front door of PPTH. She seemed to have befriended all the clinic nurses and several of the janitorial staff, in addition to many of the doctors.

They passed through the doors to Cuddy's office. She was waiting for them with a smile on her face. "JD, good to see you again. You can go now, House. The clinic can use your services. JD and I have lots to discuss."

House was reluctant to go, not because it was always hard to part from JD, although that was true, but because he was sure Cuddy was about to pump JD about their relationship. Maybe this job wasn't such a good idea after all. Well, he'd just have to trust JD. 

He had no intention of going to the clinic, but instead took the elevator up to his office. He found his team arguing over their latest patient. Good. Nothing like a clash of idiots to brighten his day.

Two hours later, having proven that all the members of his team were wrong, he headed to the cafeteria to meet JD for lunch.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10.**

It didn't take the police long to locate Delia Worthington's Taurus. It had been abandoned not far from the Hightstown exit off of I95 and towed to an impound lot three weeks before. Delia's photo and information were sent to the police departments in a fifty mile radius, with a request to check all local hospitals…and morgues.

House's phone was ringing when he returned to his office after lunch. It was the Princeton-Plainsboro Police Department. House was surprised since they hadn't spoken to Mitch or Maria in over a week.

"Dr. House? I think we know who JD is," Maria reported.

House wasn't sure what he thought or felt. "Go on," he prompted in a strained voice.

"A suburban housewife left home a month ago for a trip and never returned, never called home," she told him. "The copy of the photo we have certainly looks like JD." When he was silent she added "Dr. House, are you still there?"

He knew he had to say something. "What's her name?"

"Delia Worthington," Maria said. "She's thirty-nine, married with a son and a daughter, Colin and Addie."

House absentmindedly rubbed the ache in his leg. It hadn't hurt this much in almost a month. He automatically took out his Vicodin, shifted the phone so he could remove two, and swallowed them. "No one reported her missing before?" he asked.

"The husband expected her back this week at the latest."

"You're sure about this?"

"Um, yes. I'd say so." She was surprised by his reaction, but chalked it up to his skeptical nature.

"I'd like to take her home this evening, find out whether seeing them again will bring back her memory," Maria said.

"So soon?" House gasped, then caught himself. "Of course."

"OK. I'll pick her up at seven then," the sergeant said.

"Yeah, yeah." House disconnected but he had a lot to think about.

When JD finished for the day, she took the elevator up to House's office. At first, she didn't think he was there. The office was dark and silent. But when she opened the door, she saw House, sitting in his chair, staring into space, his hands and chin on top of his cane.

"Ready to go?" she asked.

It took a minute for him to come back from wherever his mind had taken him and focus on her. "Yeah. Sure. Time for you to go home, Delia."

"What did you just call me?" she asked, but she'd heard all right, and it brought flashes of memory.

"Delia. Delia Worthington. That's your name isn't it?" he spat out. "Delia Worthington, wife, mother."

"Oh, God!" she exclaimed.

"Colin and Addie. Remember them?"

"My babies!" she cried. Their precious faces came quickly to her mind. "I'm Delia."

"C'mon, we're going home," House said, sounding very sad. "Or rather to _my _home. Maria Perez is picking you up at seven to take you to yours."

"Why can't you come with me?" she asked.

He ignored her, limped past her out of the office, and she followed. He drove to his apartment in silence. She tried to talk to him.

"House, this doesn't mean we can't still be friends," she said. "I'll bring the kids to meet you, you'll love them. You're so great with kids."

"Delia, it's over," he finally said, forcing himself to use her real name as they got out of the car and entered his apartment.

He walked through the door and directly to his bedroom, closing the door behind him, shutting her out.

She stared at the closed door, tears coursing down her cheeks. Yes, they knew it had only been temporary, but she also knew she'd hurt him. She looked around, wondering whether it would be better to remove all traces of herself from the apartment. In the end, she decided to leave just as she'd arrived. She changed into her original outfit, putting everything else in the chest in the corner.

While she waited for Maria, she wrote House a note. She left it on the piano.

Maria arrived right on time. She was surprised at how subdued JD, or rather Delia, was. She'd expected her to be excited about going home.

"How much do you remember?" she asked, as they walked out the door.

All Delia could think about was that she'd never go through that door again.

"Delia?" Maria prompted.

"What? Oh, yes, I remember my kids, my husband. But I don't remember where I was going or why."

"You're husband said that you'd gone off for a couple of weeks to think some things through," the sergeant said.

Delia just shook her head. She still didn't remember everything. They got into Maria's car and drove to Forest Glen. When they pulled up in front of the house, Delia had to take a deep breath and let it out before she got out of the car and walked up to the front door. She didn't know what kind of reception she'd get.

The door opened the second she rang the bell. Addie came running to her. "Mommy!" she yelled as she flung herself at Delia. "You're home! You're finally home!"

"Hi, pumpkin," she said, lifting the little girl and smiling at her.

"We missed you. Where were you?" Addie buried her head against her mother's shoulder.

"I missed you too," Delia said, even though it wasn't true. It should have been.

Colin stood looking at her, a puzzled, maybe hurt look on his face. "Why didn't you call?" he asked in an accusing tone.

She didn't have an answer for him. Should she tell him she'd lost her memory? Would he understand? Would he believe her? "You're right. I should have called. But I couldn't. You know I wouldn't stay away or would at least call if I could."

He came closer, then shook his head. "So where were you?"

"Yes, that's what I want to know," Jack said, walking into the vestibule and staring at her.

"I had amnesia," she said, putting Addie down. The little girl had gotten too big to hold like that for long. "This is Maria Perez. She's a sergeant with the Princeton-Plainsboro police, and she and her partner found me, unconscious in an alley in Princeton. When I woke up I couldn't remember anything, not even who I was."

"So where have you been?" he asked again.

"Maria and Mitch had me brought to a hospital, and the doctors there took care of me. I've been staying with one of them for four weeks," she explained.

"Well, we'll have to show our appreciation some way, won't we? But you're home now," Jack said, smiling at her.

"Yes." She tried to smile back lovingly at him and hoped he didn't realize how forced it felt.

Jack's mother, Regina, joined them. "Delia, my dear, I'm so glad to see you."

Looking at the older woman, Delia realized she was happy to see her too. "Thank you for taking care of the children while I was gone." It was obvious that's what had happened.

"I've got to go," Maria said. "We'll let you know if your purse ever turns up."

"Thanks, Maria," Delia told her. "And thanks for bringing me home."

"Glad to see this end well. Goodbye, everyone," she said as she left.

"Mom, come see my new bike," Colin said.

Delia smiled at him. "Sure."

"Have you eaten supper?" Regina asked.

"No, actually I haven't."

"Well, I'll put something together for you while you go see Colin's bike."

"Thanks!" Delia said with a genuine smile.

A half hour after Delia left, House finally emerged from his bedroom and limped to the kitchen. He took a bottle of Scotch from a cupboard and poured a half glass, then grabbed the phone and called in an order for Mexican food, the only thing he'd found that JD didn't like. He took out his pills and downed two of them dry before drinking some of the Scotch.

When he went into the living room he saw the envelope resting on the piano. He initially considered just ripping it up and tossing it in the trash. But he couldn't do that. He just wasn't ready to read it yet. He shoved it behind a book on his bookshelves. He started banging out some funky blues but his fingers kept missing the keys, so he gave up.

He'd been looking forward to the food, but when it came it was tasteless, except for a slight sour tinge.

There was nowhere in the apartment he could go without thinking about her. Maybe if he drank enough he could get through the night. He took the bottle and his glass and went back to the bedroom, but her scent lingered in the bed. So he stripped it and put on new sheets and pillowcases, then crawled into bed for the night.

Jack found Delia in the kitchen the next morning. She'd turned her back to him in bed the night before, not wanting to make love. He thought it was because of what he'd done, but she hadn't said a thing about it. She was on the phone when he walked in, just hanging up.

"Who were you calling?" he asked.

"Dr. Cuddy," she said. "To say I wouldn't be in to work this morning."

"You've been working?" He sounded incredulous.

"Yes." She didn't elaborate, didn't tell him that the day before had been the first day.

"I hope he understands that you won't be working anymore." He figured she'd done it to make enough money to live on.

"He? Oh, you mean Cuddy," she said chuckling. "Lisa Cuddy is definitely not a 'he'. And why wouldn't I continue to work?" She wasn't sure being around House would be such a good idea, but she wasn't ready yet to give up the job. In fact, she kind of liked it.

"Because you don't have to. I can provide everything you want. And because the children need you here," he said.

"But they're in school all day. I'd like to work at least part time."

"Did you really have amnesia, or was it some kind of mid-life crisis?" he asked.

"I'll get you the hospital and police reports if you don't believe me!" she shouted.

"Dee," he pleaded. "I'm sorry. I just…you don't know how worried we've been."

"So worried that you waited a month before reporting me missing?"

He didn't know how to answer. He ate his breakfast in silence, kissed her cheek, then left for work.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11.**

Cuddy picked up the phone to call Wilson as soon as Delia hung up, but then decided this would be better face-to-face. She headed for his office and knocked lightly on the door, then opened it part way. "You busy?" she asked tentatively.

"Just the usual." the Oncologist said, looking questioningly at her worried expression.

"Have you seen or talked to House lately?" she asked.

"Not since before lunch yesterday," he replied, his brown eyes still narrowed. "Is there something wrong?"

"The police identified JD and she's gotten most of her memory back," Cuddy told him. "She's gone back home to her husband and two kids."

Wilson felt himself deflate. Now his expression matched hers. "We knew this had to happen sometime, but House is not going to take this well."

"There was always a chance that even when she remembered, she wouldn't go back to her old life, but under the circumstances, there's no question where she has to be."

Wilson nodded, thinking frantically about what he could do. The train wreck had already occurred. "I'll do what I can."

"I thought you should know so that you don't walk into this blind," she said.

"Thanks, Lisa" he said.

She tried feebly to smile at him, then left.

Not long after, Wilson saw House was in his office. He sighed, then headed into the lion's den.

House sat at his desk, his earphones on, concentrating on a game on his PS2, and looking as he usually did.

"You're here," Wilson said.

House looked up at him. "Where else would I be? It is my office."

"I just thought..." Wilson let the thought die. "Lisa said that JD is gone."

"Who?"

"Medium height female, blond, gray eyes?" Wilson said. "Lived with you for the past month."

"You mean Delia."

"Is that her name? And you're just going to let her go?"

House shrugged. "She knows who she is, her memory's back, the mystery's solved."

"And that's all it was? All along, just another puzzle to solve?"

"Well, the free sex was pretty good too."

"House!" Wilson threw up his arms in exasperation. He knew he'd never get House to admit there was more, that he'd felt anything for the woman. He left in defeat.

Delia had taken Addie to preschool in the family SUV after they'd seen Colin onto the school bus. Jack had suggested that they replace her car, but she pointed out that they really didn't need a third vehicle besides his Lexus and the SUV.

Regina had returned to her own home, telling Dee to call if she needed to talk. Now Dee was at loose ends. The house seemed so empty and quiet. And she missed House, even more than she thought she would.

Jack arrived at his office, eager to tell his secretary, Marcy, that his wife was back. The woman had been reluctant to end their affair, and once Delia was gone, had pushed to continue it, but Jack had decided that it was over, and over it would stay. He could have fired Marcy but he feared that she might file a sexual harassment suit against him. With Dee back, maybe he'd finally get her to give up.

"The police found Dee," he told her.

Her face fell, but she still had hopes. "Is she coming back?"

"She came back last night. She may still be angry at me but she couldn't stay away from the children, and she'll forgive me. Eventually."

Marcy decided to let it drop for now, but she wasn't giving up. Maybe she could call the current Mrs. Worthington and make sure that she never forgave Jack. "You have a ten AM with Shaw and Kerwin from accounting," she reminded her boss.

"Yes. They had some tax law questions. OK. Let me know when they arrive." He headed into his own inner sanctum to prepare for the meeting.

Once he was gone, Marcy picked up the phone and called the Worthington residence. There was no answer. Delia was probably at the spa or shopping, things Marcy didn't have the time or money for. At least not yet.

Delia found herself driving toward Princeton. She drove past House's apartment. She wanted to go in, just to see his things, smell his scent. She still had a key. But she didn't.

Instead, she drove to the mall and bought herself a pair of jeans. It seemed strange to her that there wasn't a single pair in her closet, just dress slacks, skirts, some suits and outfits like the one she was wearing when she was mugged. She finally was able to smile as she drove home.

She changed into the jeans before she went to pick up Addie. They felt...right. She and Addie were back again before Colin arrived home from school. She gave them both an after school snack and then began to prepare supper.

She made baked ziti to the children's amazement. But when Jack came home, he was more annoyed than surprised. "Where's my steak and potatoes?" he asked.

"It wouldn't kill you to try something new," Dee told him.

He took a bite. It was so good that he didn't complain any more. He looked at her with new-found interest, then suddenly noticed what she was wearing.

"Where the hell did you get those jeans?" he asked.

"Jack! Such language in front of the children!" she said. "I bought them today. They're comfortable.

"You've changed," Jack said.

The children were watching their exchange with dismay.

Dee sighed and told them "We're really not fighting. We just have some adjusting to do."

Once the children were asleep, Dee confronted Jack. "What I told the children is true. Things can't go back to the way they were."

"You still haven't forgiven me, have you?" he asked.

At first she still didn't remember what had triggered her trip. She wasn't sure what she had to forgive.

"Did Marcy call you today? I wouldn't put it past her, but I swear to you, it's over. It's been over since before you found out."

And then it came rushing back to her. His infidelity. "No, she didn't call. I was out most of the day. "

"Can you ever forgive me, do you think?"

Dee sighed. "Jack, I'd be a hypocrite if I didn't." He looked confused. "When I had amnesia, and didn't remember I was married, didn't remember I had two wonderful kids, I met a man. A doctor, brilliant, funny, fascinating. He helped me try to find out who I am. We became close, and eventually..." she hesitated, but she had to tell him "...we became lovers. So you see, either we forgive each other or we don't."

"How did you meet him?" Jack asked in a choked voice.

"Greg's a doctor at the hospital."

"Greg? That's his name?" Jack was completely floored by her confession.

"Yes. Being with him did change me, and you're just going to have to live with the new Delia," she said.


	12. Chapter 12

Well, we've come to the end of this fic, but it's not the end of the story. A week from today, I'll begin to post the sequel: Big Girls Don't Cry. Thanks for all your lovely comments.

**Chapter 12.**

House had kept himself occupied for the day, but he dreaded going home. If this night was like the previous one, he wouldn't sleep well. On the other hand, he wasn't in the mood for Wilson's brand of psychobabble either. What he needed was a good stiff drink in someplace noisy. Some compulsion led him to Flannagans. He sat at the bar again, as he had the first night he'd been there, the night he'd seen her for the first time. The ginger-haired bartender brought him his Scotch again.

While he drank, a waitress came over to him and said "Hi there, handsome. Did your friend ever find the guy who ripped her off?"

He looked at her. It was the tall redhead, Kitty. "'Fraid not," he said.

"Too bad," she said, and she was gone.

House managed to get through his days all right. It was the nights that were hard. There was no longer anyone to cook him dinner, no one to cuddle with on the couch and watch cheesy old movies with, no one to make passionate love with and then hold through the night.

By Thursday his curiosity finally got the better of him and he pulled out her letter to read.

_Dear Greg,_

_I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for everything you did for me. For your hospitality, your loving care, your friendship. For the memories we created together. For the mind-blowing sex._

_I will always love you. (OK, I know. Another sappy love song. But that doesn't make it any less true.) Still, I love my children, too, and they need me more than you do._

_You're used to being alone, in control of your life. You'll get used to having your space back. You've managed quite well before._

_I hope that we can be friends some day, but I'll let you decide about that._

_As a more recent song goes 'fairy tales don't always have a happy ending, do they?' I guess ours didn't, but it was wonderful while it lasted._

_I'll miss waking up to the sound of you snoring. I'll miss your sense of humor. I'll miss you – always._

_Delia_

All week, Dee and Jack had squabbles over big and little things, but by Friday they were beginning to come to some compromises. He said she could go back to work, but only part time, and he was beginning to enjoy her new-found cooking skills. She, in turn, agreed to wear her jeans only when she wasn't going out, although she couldn't comprehend his objection to them.

"Why don't we go out for a few drinks tonight?" he suggested.

"What about the kids? We can't get a sitter at such short notice."

He dismissed her objection immediately. "My mother will stay with them."

Regina arrived forty-five minutes after they called her. "Go, go," she said. "You two need a night out together.

Dee smiled at her, then hugged her before grabbing a jacket and following Jack out to the car. "Where are we going?" she asked.

"How 'bout Flannagan's?"

"The place near Plainsboro."

"I don't think there's another one. You seemed to like it the last time."

It had been a week or two before she'd learned of his affair. "I guess so," she said. A part of her wanted to go back there.

They entered the bar and were seated at one of the round tables. Dee looked around. A waitress came to take their orders. It was Kitty and this time she remembered Delia. "Your friend told me you never found the guy who robbed you," she said as she placed coasters in front of each of them. "What can I get you tonight?"

"I'll have a White Russia," Dee said to Jack's surprise. "So you've seen my friend?"

"He's been in a few times this week." Then Kitty turned to Jack "And for you sir?"

He was still trying to understand what the two women had been talking about. "Oh, uh, I'll have a Vodka Collins."

"Sure, I'll be right back."

"Jack, I'd like to pick out a song on the jukebox. Do you have a single?" Dee asked, standing with her hand out.

He handed her a couple of bills. She made her way between the tables to the jukebox. She'd just inserted a dollar and pressed the letter and number for "Round Midnight" when she caught a familiar scent and a ripple of pleasure flooded through her. Delia looked around and right into a pair of blue eyes staring at her as if she were an apparition.

"Taking the hubby on a tour of your old haunts?" House asked sarcastically.

"He insisted on coming here. Kitty says you've been in a few times yourself."

"I don't have kiddies at home who need me." The sarcasm intensified.

"You've read my letter."

"If you didn't expect me to, why'd you write it?"

"Dee, is this guy bothering you?" Jack had come to join them.

"No, it's all right," Delia replied. "Jack, this is Dr. House."

"One of the doctors from the hospital?" Jack asked, extending his hand to House.

House looked at it, but didn't take it. "It's been fascinating," he said, and walked away.

"Strange man," Jack commented, but Delia's heart had constricted and her eyes had filled with hot tears.

"Let's go," Dee said.

"We just got here!" Jack objected. "Dee, did that guy upset you?"

"No, no," she said. She needed to think. But what would that do? She needed to act. But what would she do? She just couldn't go on with this sham. "Jack, I can't do this. Our marriage has been over for a while, I just didn't know it. I think you sensed it. That's why you had the affair with Marcy. But I didn't know until now."

"What are you saying?" Jack asked.

"I guess I just don't love you anymore. I love him, Greg," she said.

"Wait. That disheveled and crippled old man is 'Greg'? Delia, what are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking that I love him. I don't know how I'm going to get him back. I love the children too, and I don't want to lose them, but I'll do whatever is best for them. I'm willing to work with you on that." She couldn't go on, as the tears began to flow down her cheeks. She knew the next few days and weeks wouldn't be easy, but she'd made up her mind.

Jack looked at her, and realized she was right. "Come on. I'll take you home," he said gently. "This Greg House must be some fantastic guy. He certainly one lucky one."

They got back in the car and started home. "What do we tell the kids?" Jack asked.

"I don't know."

"Where will you live?"

"I don't know that either. There are only two things I know for sure. I love Greg and I love my kids."

"I love the kids, too," Jack reminded her.

"I guess you do," she admitted. "Jack, you and I had something once. We've drifted apart and we'll never get it back. I have a second chance at happiness, and I'm determined to take it."

"You think he'll..." The words stuck in his throat. "You think he'll take you back?"

Delia thought of the intensity of House's sarcasm earlier, and about the fact that he'd read her letter. She smirked. "He doesn't know it yet, but I know he will. And when he does, he'll never let me go."


End file.
